


Acceptance

by PeachyyPiggy



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: College AU, M/M, Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, Neither of them know how to handle their emotions, i love these two sm, its wholesome trust me, roger majors in pychology and simon in botany, roger works in a record store and simon in a flower shop, simon takes it better than roger whoops, they deserve the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyyPiggy/pseuds/PeachyyPiggy
Summary: Roger, a boy with not much appreciation to anything remotely nature related somehow finds himself in the middle of a flower shop. Simon, the boy who works in said shop intrigues him much more.
Relationships: Roger/Simon (Lord of the Flies)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 31





	1. I need a bouquet to say fuck you

Roger walked down the streets, grumbling a string of nonsensical profanities under his breath along the way. As much as he’d hate to admit, he definitely should’ve worn a thicker hoodie as the harsh gusts of air hit his face, making his nose and cheeks slightly blushed. Maybe if he hadn’t had that argument with his roommate, Jack he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. Nonetheless he continued on, no discernable location in mind, whatever was furthest away from Jack would be sufficient. That is, until he spotted a quaint flower shop he hadn’t seen before. Lush vines were crawling up the sides with a small arrangement of assorted succulents placed outside. The creme toned brick had a few cracks that allowed some moss to grow between the cracks. An idea popped into his head occupying his train of negative self-loathing, although it may only be an act of petty retribution, he thought the gesture would be perfectly cynical. 

The ringing of a soft golden bell filled the shop’s space as the obsidian haired boy stepped inside. Although it looked small from the outside, it was much larger than expected on the inside, with pastel yellow walls and birch hardwood floors. The noise alerted the only other person inside the shop, a short boy who was currently tending to a batch of gardenias. In contrast to Roger’s rougher appearance of a black hoodie and black ripped jeans paired with a pair of boots that looked as though they might’ve been thrifted, this other boy’s was quite soft. A pair of faded overalls, a salmon t-shirt and converse was his attire. The other boy perked up at the sight of the one in front of him. 

“Hi! Welco-”  
“I need a bouquet that screams ‘fuck you,’” Roger cut the pastel covered boy off. 

He looked at the boy before him confusedly but complied with his request despite his rude manner, quickly nodding to confirm that he understood. “Follow me,” he offered a small smile as to not agitate the irritable boy before him “My name’s Simon, by the way.”.

The gesture was returned plainly, “Roger.” As much as he wanted to, he refused to allow the small upturn of his lips to be expressed, so he simply repressed it. 

Simon weaved his way through the shop with ease picking out his first bunch for the bouquet, a flower that appeared to have several hooded bits sprouting off of it in a shade of lavender. “It’s called aconite, it symbolizes hatred, if you were wondering,” Simon trailed off at the last bit of his sentence but continued on, Roger still following close behind. Next was a few foxgloves which Simon explained as to mean insincerity, then meadowsweet for uselessness. 

Roger couldn’t help but to wonder how Simon managed to remember all of the meanings and names of all these plants that surrounded them. Then again, he thought to himself, he is a psychology major, so he can’t really be one to judge. He quickly found himself in a rut of overflowing thoughts once more. In the midst of his clouded thoughts he hadn’t noticed Simon was on another tangent of the final flower that’d complete the bouquet of revulsion. He shook his head slightly as to regain focus once more. “-anyways yeah! Yellow carnations, they’re for disappointment.” Roger nodded as though he were listening to the complete conversation Simon was having with himself. Simon held the bouquet out for Roger after wrapping it in a clear cellophane. That’s when Roger noticed the shorter boys bandaged fingers, and stared at them for maybe a second too long to which Simon took notice. 

“They’re uh, from cutting myself accidently with the clippers” he gestured over to a small pair of plier-like clippers sitting on the counter. Roger nodded, no words had to be exchanged for him to know to change the subject. 

As Simon was ringing up the total, he had a questioning look in his eyes. “What brings you to even get a bouquet like this anyways? I’ve never seen it before,” his eyes widened slightly before stammering out a quick apology “ah, it’s ok if you don’t want to respond i just- it’s pretty I just-” 

Roger let out an amused huff, “Roommate was pissing me off. We had an argument that’s all,” the smile he so desperately repressed finally coming to fruition. He handed the cash over to Simon while they waited for the receipt to finish printing. 

“So flowers were your resolution?”  
“I thought it’d be kinda funny, it’s not like he knows anything about flower meanings anyways.”  
“Gotcha’,” Simon lightly grinned, handing over the slip of paper to Roger, who hadn't noticed the scribbling of a simple sentence on the paper and simply shoved it into his hoodie pocket. Roger thanked Simon softly before exiting the innocently modest shop, the cool air hitting him once more, after not being out there for what was probably a good half hour, giving him the time to warm himself up the air felt frigid and harsh. He started back to his shared dorm, the flowers in one hand and the other shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, feeling the receipt touch his hand.

“How much did I even pay for these fuckin’ things?” he mumbled under his breath, a visible swoosh of air coming from mouth as the words escaped his mouth. Bringing the slip out of his pocket and reading it over, the green ink towards the bottom finally catching his attention. 

‘Thanks for coming in, made my day actually. :)’ Underneath was Simon’s name scribbled in a bubbly font, just as the rest of the note was. 

The fact a simple stranger could make a person's day was beyond Roger as he continued walking. However, as he watched the hues of the heavens change from a cloudy grey to a muted mix of purple and pink he couldn’t get Simon off of his mind either. Guess he’d have to find a new excuse to go visit the soft boy who graciously helped him with his form of revenge.

He fumbled with his keys as he approached his dorm, excited to see the blank quizzical stare of Jack when he handed him the flowers. He could practically see the scene in his head, with Maurice’s laughter in the background of the whole ordeal. His frozen hands finally allowed for him to twist the key and open the door. Taking a step inside he closed the door behind him and looked out into the room before him. The small living quarters with held both of his roommates lounging on the couch. Roger couldn’t help but to smile a small bit. He approached the volcanic boy and shoved the flowers to Jack. That stupid look on his face, satisfied Roger making the flowers worth every penny he paid for them as it was just the reaction he was hoping for, Maurice was laughing as well, as expected. 

“The fuck is this?”  
“Retribution, might wanna look up the meanings asshole,” 

Roger simply turned and went back to his room closing the door behind him and dumping the contents of his hoodie onto the side table. His wallet, keys and phone took over the space before he found the receipt once more. He rolled his eyes at it before one side of his mouth turned upwards, much to his perpetual distaste. Shoving the note into his wallet in hopes neither of his flatmates would find it. Finally, he plopped himself down onto his bed, picking up his phone once more, scrolling through whatever endless stream of posts he was looking at before falling into a peaceful slumber.


	2. It'll go away.. right?

After Roger left the shop, a few customers came throughout the day but none stuck in Simon’s mind like the boy he’d just met that day. He continued dethorning roses, which, just so happened to be his least favorite job to tend to in the entire shop. Simon had many thoughts running through his head and couldn’t wait to return to the comfort of his dorm with his two best friends and tell them about his day. Whilst lost in his thoughts he noticed a new sting on one of his fingers. Simon caught himself out of his blissful train of thoughts and glanced at his finger with glassy eyes. He put the utensil he was using down and sighed, noticing the thorn impaled in his finger, a small dribble of blood threatening to trickle down if he took it out. He picked it out of his finger, grimacing slightly in doing so. After wrapping yet another bandage around his finger, he continued to dethorn the last of the bunch, putting them in their proper spots afterwards, deciding he was finished for the night.

Simon got his bag from the coathanger behind the counter, opening the front pocket to retrieve his keys, one of which was the one to the shop. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he made his way out of the shop, ensuring to lock it as to not disturb any of the plant-life that resided within. He began walking away from the familiar shop and in the direction of his residence. As he walked he thought about what his friends would say. Ralph would be excited, he thought. Piggy would probably be worrisome at first but hopefully he’d ease into the conversation. Simon wondered if Sam and Eric would be there. It wasn’t uncommon to see the inseparable twins in their dorm since they were also friends of the three flatmates. He was so lost in thought at what his friends would think that he had barely noticed he was already almost there. He fumbled through his keychain, looking for the almost rose-gold key due to how much use it had. Finally, he found it and held onto it for the rest of his walk. 

Upon reaching his dorm, he twisted the door handle after inserting the key and hearing the click of it unlocking the door before him. As he opened the door he was greeted with the mouth-watering smell of whatever was currently cooking on the stove. 

“Hey Si!” Ralph greeted Simon’s presence. 

Simon turned to Ralph returning a greeting. He strolled over to Ralph, who was currently flipping some tofu that was mixed in with a sweet smelling sauce. “What’cha making?” 

“Tofu and vegetables, oh- hey could you actually check on them, they’re in the steamer there.” Ralph requested pointing over to the steamer. 

Simon complied, opening the lid, a burst of heat hitting his face, which he didn’t mind considering how cold it currently was. The vegetables, more vibrant than their previously uncooked versions, looked about done so Simon turned the switch off so they’d stop cooking. “How was your day? Anything happen?” 

Simon perked up at the mention of his day. “Yeah, I’ll tell you at dinner, are Sam and Eric coming over?” he smiled, pushing himself up to sit on the countertop.

“Not tonight, they said they have a big test coming up so they needed the night to study.” Ralph replied, maneuvering his way around the kitchen, putting the vegetables in with the mix, before serving the meal in three separate bowls. 

Piggy entered the room after being called by Ralph. The three sat at their table with their normal conversations of what happened in their day. Ralph’s day consisted of his average law classes and his Thursday calculus class. Piggy’s wasn’t much different, his usual medicine classes taking over his schedule. Then it was Simon’s turn, the attention now on him. He took a sip from his water as to buy time to think of how to put together his sentences. 

“Uh so, this guy came in today,” Simon smiled at the memory, “wanted a bouquet cause his roommate and him got into an argument or something?” 

Ralph stifled a laugh before allowing Simon to continue with his story. 

“It was a pretty bouquet though, I’ll admit. Just thought it was kinda funny, I’ve never seen it before.” Simon went silent for a moment before continuing, “He said his name was Roger.” 

Ralph, who’d been intently listening, just as Piggy had, joined in the conversation, “What’s he look like?” The name sounded vaguely familiar though he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. 

Simon thought for a moment, his gaze going from his almost empty bowl to a wall before turning his head to Ralph, “he had black hair- like mine, and his bangs almost covered his eyes.” Simon gestured to roughly where the person in question's hair clashed with his face, “but it was really fluffy, he wore a hoodie and jeans, nothing special really,” Simon concluded his memory of the boy’s appearance. 

Piggy, although quiet, nodded, “You thought he was cute, didn’t you?” 

Simon flushed for a moment, his voice slightly shaky, “I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna see him again,” 

Ralph, who’d started to help Piggy clean up the dishes, chimed in, “it’s alright to admit it Si, I think it’s normal to get little crushes on people you meet, they come and go anyways,”

Simon smiled slightly at Ralph’s encouraging words, his cheeks still dusted a light red. Knowing it was merely a momentary crush relaxed Simon, there was nothing to worry about. Although he appeared to be the same age as Simon, Simon hadn’t taken any notice to anyone like Roger on his school campus, the likeliness of them crossing paths again was slim to none. Simon's thoughts drifted to his eyes. From what he remembers he took interest in them. They looked dark brown in certain light but shifted to black in others. The only consistent detail he could remember were the red speckles that illuminated them no matter the lighting. The contrast between the two were stark, Simon’s bright green eyes matched his entire softer aesthetic, meanwhile, Roger’s onyx orbs only added to his potentially dangerous appearance. Simon couldn’t figure out why he kept thinking back to the boy he’d met earlier, the crush was only momentary, that’s what Ralph said anyways. 

A continuous flash wept over Simon’s face as he continued thinking, rapidly, he shook his head as to rid of the flash. 

“Helloo, earth to Simon.. You there buddy?” albeit, the flashing Simon was experiencing was merely Piggy, attempting to grab his attention. 

As though he were coming out of some sort of trance, “yeah, I’m fine don’t worry about me,” offering a barely visible smile, Simon concluded he was actually fine and not, in fact, crazy. 

Piggy offered the same smile back, “Ralph’s gonna put a movie on, come watch it with us!” 

“I’ll be there in a second,” Piggy nodded at Simon’s response, satisfied. 

Simon put his glass in the dishwasher before heading into the living room where Piggy sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, popping a candy into his mouth. Ralph on the other hand, was sprawled out on the couch, a pillow laid on his stomach which he had his arm around. He was flipping through movies on Netflix with no ulterior motive other than to find something that they’d all enjoy. Simon joined the pair, wrapping himself in a blanket before taking a seat on the plush chair that sat next to the couch. He sat cross-legged comfortably leaning against the chair, feeling the warmth of the blanket encase him. Finally, after what seemed to be a millennium, Ralph decided on a movie. 

About a quarter-way through the movie, they unanimously decided the movie was horrible yet still continued watching, just to complain and make fun of it. By the end, the three had passed out, Ralph snoring slightly, Simon was cuddled up in the chair almost in a fetal position while Piggy slept with his head resting on his arms, his legs dangling off the couch.   
Ralph’s eyes fluttered open, being blinded by the bright light of the TV screen, he reached for the remote and turned the TV off. In a half-awake state of dreaminess he took a glance at Piggy and shook his head before smiling, then to Simon, deciding it was best to leave them and just go back to sleep where they were. As such, Ralph turned over and closed his eyes, hoping to return to his dreams.


	3. Your damned wallet caused me more trouble than my biology homework

Simon sat in his English class, doodling in the papers of his notebook, not taking any particular mind to the lesson the professor was giving. He rested his chin on his hand, cupping his face in doing so, his pen never leaving his paper. Simon continued to zone in and out of the class, he heard something of a new essay being assigned, of which the topic he missed. His mind was far too busy replaying a supercut of the past few days to pay attention properly. His initial encounter with the onyx boy took him by storm. Although he hadn’t encountered Roger since then, he kept creeping into Simon’s thoughts. The conversation Ralph and him shared at dinner a few nights ago didn’t help his case either. Ralph said crushes come and go, and yet, Simon was plagued by the overwhelming feeling that placed dancing butterflies in his stomach. He wanted to trust Ralph’s words, he really did. However, this was just too far gone in his mind. This wasn’t any.. what was the word Piggy used? Squish? No, this was most definitely a crush. Simon hoped it’d fade quickly, the chances of him meeting Roger again was slim anyways. 

While lost in his waterfall of thoughts, he barely noticed that class was dismissed. Simon stood from his seat and began packing his things into his bag, not in any rush as he didn’t any class following for the rest of the day. After slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made his way up the steps of the room, for he sat toward the front of the room. Simon stopped suddenly, a wallet catching his attention, he picked it up before continuing his way out of the classroom. Opening the wallet didn’t reveal much, just a few cards, some cash and a peculiar slip of paper. A twinge of guilt panged at Simon’s chest for looking through someone’s personal belongings but he knew he had to return the wallet and he would’ve felt worse looking through their cards. He pulled the somewhat crumpled piece of paper out, examining it. At first glance Simon took it as another ordinary receipt you’d get but upon further examination, he took attention towards the sentence scribbled in green ink.

‘Thanks for coming in, made my day actually. :)’ 

In that exact moment, butterflies ate away at Simon’s stomach once more. On one hand he’d get to see Roger again, even if only for a moment and a brief conversation, it was still something. On the other, he’d get to see Roger. Also, this means that they most certainly have English together, alas, that wasn’t what was important at this moment. What was important was tracking down Roger’s whereabouts. 

With a newfound sense of direction, Simon set his head high in hopes of finding Roger. As he walked down the halls, he took a quick peek into every room he passed, hoping to see a glimpse of that charcoal hair. However those hopes only turned fruitless. After a solid half-hour of going up and down halls, peering inside classes, all he got was a few glances from professors. However, Simon still felt as though not all hope had been lost. He wandered down the many flights on stairs to the cafeteria, hoping to finally find Roger, otherwise he’d return it to his English class. Simon looked out into the sea of students taking over the dining hall, his gaze roamed the room, only one person in mind. There! In the corner of the room, a few others surrounded him, one had fiery hair, the other, had chocolate brown. Simon got more excited than he probably should’ve upon seeing the mop of obsidian hair who was currently shoving a binder into his worn out backpack, then, after slipping it on, punching his friend lightly on the shoulder. 

Was he leaving? Simon hurried out of his trance, and towards the boy. Granted, it took him a while to reach the space occupied by the trio due to him having to shove his way through the crowds of people.

Oh no. 

He was gone.

This damned wallet has caused Simon more trouble than his biology project this week. Simon looked around frantically, how could he possibly lose him? Roger was right there just two seconds ago. As though luck finally decided to be Simon’s side for the first time today, Roger was right there, just exiting the building. Simon quickly took off from his current spot, which gained him stares from the sunset haired boy and mocha haired boy who he assumed were Roger’s friends. 

“Hey! Uh-” Simon yelled after Roger to catch his attention, but he kept walking. Simon sighed, before regaining his motivation, rushing up to the taller of them, tapping him on the shoulder. 

Roger glanced over his shoulder for the source of this annoyance, bored eyes boring onto Simon, who he hadn’t appeared to have recognized right away. Though, when he had, his eyes lost the bored expression and was rather replaced by one of questioning causing him to stop in his tracks. He tugged at one of the wires from his earbuds, removing it from his ear. 

They stared at each other for maybe a second too long, as though neither of them knew what to say.

“I uh- I found your wallet,” Simon said as he rummaged through his backpack, jittering hands trying to locate the object in question.

Roger patted his jean pockets before sighing, “Shit,” he thanked Simon before taking his wallet back, looking through the compartments, then shoving it into his pocket. “Where’d you even find it? I hadn’t even realized I’d lost it,”

The butterflies came back. “Oh, I uh, it was just outside the English room,” 

Roger gave Simon a curious glance, “So we have the same English class? I didn’t know you went here,”

“Yeah, uh I study botany,” Simon replied shyly.

“Huh, what’s that? Actually- wanna walk with me? I gotta get to work in a half hour but it should be fine.” 

Perking up at the offer, Simon nodded his head and then began walking once more, this time side by side. 

After a few moments of silence, Simon broke it once more, “So, what do you study?”

“Psychology,” 

“Ooo like, therapy or?” 

Roger could only give the tiniest remnants of a smile shaking his head slightly, “Nah, more like criminal psych,” 

The pair continued on their way, making conversation every now and again, not bothering to look both ways as they crossed a street. Simon, who was bustling with anxiety, kept to himself by staring at his feet, fidgeting with his backpacks shoulder straps. He felt an arm bump into his chest and when he looked ahead of him, he noticed it was Roger’s arm, blocking him from walking out into the street as cars whizzed by. Simon expected to be scolded or given a stern look, though when he met eyes with Roger, he was only met with an unreadable expression, though not one that looked disappointed in him as he expected.

Finally, when it was safe for them to cross, came the words, “Careful next time, k?” though mumbled, Simon could hear them clearly, and they were much more protective rather than angered. Turning one last corner, and walking about a quarter way up the street before Roger came to a halt. 

When Simon looked back up to their whereabouts, he was greeted with a record shop, the exterior constructed of the common red bricks. A whisper of a foreign emotion passed over Simon when he realized his time with Roger was coming to an end. That is, before a phone was shoved his way.

“Here, put your number in, that way we can keep eachother updated on English work incase one of us miss a day,”

“Oh, yeah good idea, here, put your in my phone too,” After Simon finished putting his number into Roger’s phone he passed it back to him along with his own phone.

Roger handed Simon back his phone after repeating the gesture, “You know the way back to your,” Roger paused for a second as though he wasn’t sure of his next word of choice, “Dorm? You live in a dorm too right?” 

Simon giggled a bit, smiling at Roger, “Yeah, I do,” Simon stopped himself, a slight red tint painting his cheeks “-That goes for both questions,” 

Roger nodded then took a few steps to the door, and just as unpredictable as ever,turned back to Simon, “See ya later, Simon,” a distant smile evident across his lips. 

“See ya, Rog,” Simon smiled back, already turning on his heel back in the direction of his dorm.

He had so much to tell Ralph, Piggy, Sam and Eric.


	4. This isn't how I thought I'd be spending my afternoon, but I'll go with it

Navigating his way through the hallway, Simon finally came to his English class. His green tea, which was held in a cup from the cafe his roommate Ralph works at in one hand, in the opposite, his binder which held all the contents he’d need for the next two hours. His eyes examined the room, before falling on a notable figure, none other than Roger. 

With a small tug at his lips and a little bounce in his step he found his way to the seat next to him. Upon further inspection, The boy with the darker aesthetic had his head resting on one of his arms while his other hand was busy scrolling through whatever mundane app was illuminating from his phone. Since their previous meeting a couple of weeks ago, this has become their regular routine. Simon has long abandoned his seat up near the front of the class and instead settled for one in the top back right corner. 

“This seat taken?” Simon pointed to the seat beside him, a grin now in place of his subtle smile. 

The latter replied, “Is now,” his bored gaze lighting up a little when he turned to see Simon. 

Simon took his seat, placing his tea and binder on the desk, his bag in the seat next to him. Roger, whose gaze returned to his phone once more, then turned back to Simon as he got comfortable in his seat, one leg crossed under the other. 

“What’s even in that thing?” Roger gestured over to Simon’s cup, “Sure isn’t coffee.”

“Green tea! Try some!” Simon pushed the cup over to Roger a little before opening his binder, preparing for the lecture. 

With a small shrug Roger took the cup, the warmth emanating from the tea filled his mouth as he took a sip, “Reminds me of when my mum would make me drink it when I was sick as a kid,” he concluded before taking another small sip deciding that his mom must’ve put some sort of sweetener in it as well, honey perhaps? 

“Really? My mom used to make me drink peppermint,” Simon smiled at the memory, clicking his pen on the papers of his binder. “but I can see how green tea would be beneficial too.”

With another small bout of silence among them, Roger took out his laptop, which was covered in stickers of various brands, images and phrases. Logging in and opening the necessary documents he sighed, “This is so stupid,” 

“What do you mean?” Simon turned to him, taking his drink into his hands.

“We’ve been working on the same essay for three weeks now, and look,” he scrolled through the document, “I’m finished.”

“How’d you even manage to finish this quickly? It has to be ten pages!” 

Roger deadpanned, looking almost regretful of his decisions before explaining, “I may or may not have pulled two all nighters writing this thing,”

Simon, now with an odd mix of concern and panic in his eyes, looked almost afraid to ask, “Did, did you do it one after the other, or?” 

A second too long was all it took for Simon to get his response.

Roger, realizing he was about to get lectured not only on english, but also his health, defensively retorted back, “I thought the due date was a lot sooner, and I panicked, alright?” 

Simon shook his head, “You? Panicking? Never thought I’d hear ya’ say that one,” he took a sip from his tea, “anyways, it doesn’t excuse it. Just, don’t do that again, okay?” 

“Whatever.”

As time passed, Roger found himself looking down at the time on his desktop much more than normal. Seconds felt like hours and minutes felt like a millenium. After proofreading his paper until it became mind-numbingly boring and his electronics no longer providing the entertainment he desired, he turned to Simon, poking him on the shoulder. 

Simon, who was previously typing away on his own laptop, came to a halt, turning slightly to see Roger, waiting for him. "Yeah, what's up?" 

"Wanna get outta here?" 

"Huh? Roger, there's still like forty-five minutes of class left," 

"Yeah but this is dumb, besides, we're working on this tomorrow too." Roger was already packing his laptop into his bag. "Either way, I'm leaving, the door is literally right over there," he gestures to the doorway, "the professor doesn't really care anyways." 

The idea seemed tempting to Simon. Maybe they could go to a coffee shop or go to the mall for a bit? Despite seeing each other in class and walking to their respective jobs together the duo hasn't hung out outside of those activities. Sure, Piggy might scold him for skipping class but it's not like he wasn't doing the work previously and besides, he wasn't leaving alone. 

"Ya know what? Sure." Simon began shoving his laptop into his bag. 

By the time Simon had finished getting all of his things together, Roger was getting up to leave. Simon picked up his binder and now empty coffee cup, abandoning his seat. As much as he'd hate to say it, Simon liked this rush of adrenaline. It was foreign to him. He always stuck to rules, very rarely would he deviate away from them, but it was hard to not to bend the rules a little when he was with Roger. They never actually got in trouble, maybe a brief talking to but never anything serious. 

Once out of the class, Roger turned to Simon once more, still continuing on down the halls, "So, where to?" 

It took Simon a moment to think of a place, until he finally concluded on a certain spot. "I know a spot in the forest near the dorms, it's really peaceful. I think you might like it," Simon looked up to Roger, hoping he'd comply with his request. 

Roger gave a questioning look yet accepted the suggestion nonetheless. "I mean, if you want, sure. I was thinking the arcade or something but this works." 

With a new sense of direction and Simon assuming leadership they headed off to the forest that surrounded much of the dorms. Once exiting the campus the sun slightly blinded both of them, causing Simon to squint. Roger kept his head hung low to avoid coming in contact with the rays, kicking a rock along the pavement as he walked. Maybe if they had left later it'd be a little warmer and the small gusts of spring air wouldn't nip at Simon's skin like it was in the moment. Small games of 'would you rather' sparked between them to fill the void of silence. It was then that Simon realized even when there was a lull in conversation between them, it was never uncomfortable, in fact it was actually quite nice, both in their own little worlds just with the opposings physical company. 

Amidst his almost dream-like state, Roger flicked his shoulder, just another way of his, to grab Simon's attention. 

"Alright, we're here, where to now?" When Simon came to his senses he realized the gates of trees and bushes were amongst him. He beamed a little, gently taking Roger's arm and walking confidently into the greenery. 

"Careful, it's kinda slippery there," Simon pointed to a gathering of rocks that served as a makeshift bridge as they weren't completely submerged in the crystal waters of the creek. 

Just as careless as ever, Roger walked over the rocks, both hands submerged in his signature hoodie, a daring smile upon his features. With ease, he walked over, not paying much attention to how the rocks shifted under him. Meeting Simon on the other end, he sounded more emotionally exhausted than anything. "We've been walking for forever, Si, are you sure we came the right way?" 

"Of course! I come here a lot, and besides," he paused gesturing over to a small platform, slightly higher than everything else, it was surrounded with trees so thick Roger wondered how that could even be something. "It's right there!" 

"That? How the hell do you even get through those trees?" 

With nothing more than a sigh and a small tug on Roger's hoodie sleeve Simon continued on. "You push through the branches, it's not too hard really." 

Once through the thick of the trees, they were greeted with a lush platform all to themselves. A single log laid among the bright grass. Flowers of all kinds created a ring around thick trees that encased the spot, branches elongated to create an imperfect roof which allowed the sun to leak through. Simon went forward, picking some flowers. Meanwhile Roger stood still, taking it in. He was never one to appreciate nature like Simon does and for the first time he could see why Simon finds comfort in plant life. 

After collecting an array of colorful flowers, Simon sat on the log and began weaving them together. A new weight was on the other side of the log, watching Simon's focus on his creation. "What cha makin'?"

Simon smiled, "You'll see," he paused, stopping his motions. "but you have to promise to wear it, at least while we're here." 

Shrugging, Roger put his elbows on his knees, hands cupping his face, watching Simon. Every so often he'd find himself paying close attention to certain parts of the brighter of them. His eyes. Oh God, his eyes. There was no denying they were green, almost as green as some gemstones. Maybe it was just the rays of sunlight beaming down on them playing tricks on him but Roger was most certain that he saw flickers of sapphire. His gaze casted to his cheeks, for the first time he noticed faded freckles, while they weren't prominent because of his darker complexion, Roger could still make them out. Almost on cue to cut him from his thoughts, Simon held up his creation. A perfectly crafted crown of botanica was dawned upon him. When he felt Simon's hands reach to place the crown on his head his fingers grazed his hair which made Roger smile a little, almost unintentionally. 

As Simon finished adjusting it so all the petals were perfect, he took a look back and let out a laugh. Sure, Roger had heard Simon laugh plenty of times. When he'd show him some dark meme on his phone only to get a light slap on his shoulder and a 'that's horrible why would you show me that' preceded by a stifled laugh or maybe he'd lean over to see what Simon was giggling at only to see a mini pig zooming around with an abundance of energy, like a puppy. But this was different. It was the most pure laugh he'd heard, something that only happens when you're 100 percent happy and feel your best. In a moment of something Roger could only guess to call happiness he smiled, not one of his halfhearted ones, or a cocky grin. No. It was truly a real smile. 

"Pfff it totally throws off your whole aesthetic, but I'm kinda here for it," Simon finished laughing, looking over his friends appearance. 

"Yeah ok, whatever you say," words shaky as he spoke between stifled laughs. 

Roger moved to the grass,laying down, looking up to see leaves now protecting them from the sun. He closed his eyes, crossing his hands over his stomach. Simon joined him on the grass, pointing out cloud formations. 

"This one kinda looks like a bunny! Oh! And this one is like a heart!" 

Opening an eye, and looking over to Simon, he shook his head slightly before pushing part of his bangs from his eyes and closing the open one once more. Between Simon's cloud watching and small conversations filling the space. Another hour must've passed before Simon declared that he was getting a bit cold, prompting them to decide it was time to go back to their respective dorms. 

They wandered out of the forest the same way they came and decided it'd be best to take the short way back to the dorms. The only difference was the crown proudly displayed atop Roger's ink coloured strands. New conversations overtook them with friendly banter going back and forth. 

Among reaching the dorm buildings, a small void filled Roger's chest, but it was fine, he'd see Simon tomorrow anyways. They went to turn their separate ways but Roger stopped before allowing them to do so.

"Alright, I'll uh, I'll see you tomorrow in class right?" 

"Yeah of course!" Simon then pointed upwards of his own head, "Might wanna put it in your bag if you don't wanna get questions," 

"Oh, yeah, I guess," he smiled before waving to Simon, concluding their time together. 

Entering the dorm building, Roger slung his bag off of his shoulder and onto a bench near the entrance. After unzipping the bag he carefully took the crown off properly seeing it for the first time. Plenty of pinks, yellows and shades of lavender in a varying arrangement of shapes and sizes were in his hands. Smiling a little to himself, he delicately placed the crown atop everything else his bag in hopes of it staying safe and not being ruined. After zipping the main pocket back up he unzipped the small front pocket, retrieving his keys. Finally after putting his bag onto his back once more, he made his way up a few sets of stairs, finally reaching his destination. He put the key in the lock, twisting it. 

When he opened the door he remembered why he actually liked being with Simon to balance out the chaos in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol hope you enjoyed the fluff, next two chapters are gonna be big sad so emotionally prepare yourself ig??
> 
> Also chapter 6 might be triggering to some but I'll put warnings in the notes so dw!!


	5. Escape doesn't always work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attacks and thoughts of self harm

When Roger came back from skipping the last bit of class, (which admittedly lasted longer than he thought it would, though he wasn't one to complain) he was reminded of the chaos that were his flatmates, Jack and Maurice. Normally, he wouldn't mind their nonsense, sometimes he'd even join in, however, because of events that unfolded just moments before, he wanted nothing to do with them. No, right now he had more important things to attend to. 

Currently, they were playing some video game on their TV. Neither party seemed to notice Roger come through the door, the smashing of buttons and insults thrown back and forth mixed with intense glares never seemed to seize. Roger closed the door behind him, the heavy door almost slamming in the process. Then they noticed. Maurice, who'd been the first to take notice of Roger looked at him, slightly wide eyed. 

"Yo where the hell were you?" 

Jack butted into the conversation, "-We've been texting you, you have a phone, use it." 

Roger, now with the same bored expression he usually dawned, replied plainly, "I was with a friend, don't worry about it," he wandered over the pair, sitting on the arm of the couch. "-and I'm not  _ always  _ on my phone Jack, I can't just  _ know _ when you text me. 

"What, do you not have a ringtone or something?" He picked his controller up once more, prompting Maurice to do the same, unpausing their game. 

"I do, I just never turn it on." 

"Hey, can we not fight again, please?" Maurice begged between the pair, "You guys just had an argument like, two? Three weeks ago? And you're just now over it, let's not make things worse." 

Maurice knew exactly where things would go if he hadn't intervened. This was always the case with Jack and Roger, they got along great, but they always blew their disagreements way out of proportion. Sometimes he wonders what it'd be like if he wasn't there to stop them from going at each other's throats. Both held anger but they differed greatly. Jack's was much more explosive and sudden, much like fire. Roger's, who Maurice thought was much scarier, was cold, he let it fester until he needed to get it out of his system, kind of how a volcano erupts. 

Without another word, Roger got up, glaring daggers back at Jack, he was almost sure he could feel them taking stabs at him. Roger made his way to his room. Once inside, the comfort of his belongings took him in. Posters covered his walls, along with a lonesome bass guitar he played much more when he was in high school. Since moving to university time has become so much more limited than Roger wanted it to be, so much so that he often wondered how people managed to get anything done with only twenty four hours in a day. Flickering on the purple LED lights and allowing them to illuminate the room he dumped his bag next to his bed. He sat on his bed getting his phone out of his pocket and sure enough,an abundance of texts and a couple missed calls were in his notifications. Most read the same general meaning; 'Where are you? Are you okay?' At least they cared. 

Unzipping his bag to gather his supplies for homework he came across the botanical crest. While some of the petals were damaged slightly, for the most part it was untouched. Taking it into his hands he examined it further, while he didn't know each of the flowers' names he was sure they all had some sort of meaning. If Simon were here in this moment he'd be rambling off all the scientific names and their meanings. The purples were beginning to fade slightly and the pinks became duller all while yellows decomposed. Gently, Roger placed the crown on his tabletop as if not to hurt it anymore. It's funny how a simple gesture like that can mean so much to someone. Roger was never one for affectionate gestures like that, but, maybe it's because he'd never experienced them before. That's what he thought, anyways. 

He laid on his bed staring at the ceiling, lost in these never ending thoughts. 

That little tingle he got in the back of his head when Simon placed the crown atop him was alien. Were these normal? Should he go to the doctor? Shouldn't he  _ know _ ? After all, he is literally studying the brain and all its quirks. On top of all that though, why was he noticing little things about Simon that most people wouldn't bother to seek? Sure, he was observant, he knew that much. But this wasn't normal for him and he knew that. These were much more than simple observations. Simon's malachite eyes came back to him, then his freckles. Those damned freckles. Simons were soft in comparison to Jack's. He was sure that if he paid enough attention that he could count them. The way his fingers delicately weaved around flowers was something Roger thought to be almost hypnotizing. The few bandages he had on his hands didn't seem to affect him at all as he continued to thread them with one another and though nothing were wrong.

This couldn't be right. 

Flurries of thoughts overtook him, and as they did he became more and more sure of his realization. He liked Simon. Not just in a friends kind of way, but probably romantically. 

No. No. No.

This wasn't good. 

Why was he like this? Why was he so stupid? It wasn't supposed to happen like this! All this was supposed to be was a friendship. He never asked to be the one to break apart yet another one of his friendships. Maybe it was just a trick his mind was playing on him? No, there wasn't any way that could be the case, he knew that, he just didn't want to admit it. 

The pressure inside his head felt like two walls closing in on him and all he could do was lay and let it happen. He sat back up, looking out the window only to be greeted with hues of orange and blue mixing. The pressure never went away. He kept thinking. 

Thoughts. Thoughts. Thoughts. Too many thoughts.

His heart began racing. Slamming his hands to his head and keeping them there, he knew it was coming on again. The pressure was still there, both physically and emotionally and only worsened. 

Sliding down to sit against the edge of his bed he pulled his knees to his chest. He refused to cry, to let a river flow. Instead, he held a hand out in front of him, just to make sure. Sure enough, it was trembling. Great. Just great. 

It's funny how all of this can be going on and he's the only one to know. The universe will still go on without him, it made him feel insignificant. Roger often flip flopped on his opinion if that was a positive thing or not and right now he was completely conflicted. On one hand it was good he wanted to be alone. On the other, he needed someone there, someone to ground him, let him know he's not going crazy and it'll be okay once it's over. 

He looked through his sweep of messy strands, out the window again. An escape. He needed an escape. Then it'd all be okay again. He took to his feet, legs shaky and slightly lightheaded. Taking a moment to rebalance, he took deep breaths in hopes to relieve some of the pressure from his head, but to no avail. Shakily, he put his converse back on and slipped his bag back on his shoulders. He knew where he was going. He just needed out. While his heart was still beating fast, it wasn't racing as fast as it was previously. Exiting his room, he looked around, eyes darting hoping to not land on either Jack or Maurice, especially Maurice. 

  
  


He wasn't so lucky. He was so close, so, so close. The door to his escape was right there, but so was Maurice. Maurice, oblivious to Roger's obvious panic, stood by the coffee maker waiting patiently on his phone for his drink to finish brewing. It was times like this that Roger cursed the door for being right next to the kitchen in the first place. There was no avoiding it, Maurice was going to try and talk to him. Just as though it were on cue, Maurice looked up from his phone. Unable to hide away anywhere he faced his impending doom, his hands were still trembling, in an attempt to hide them away and not bring any attention to them, he dug them into his hoodie. 

"Oh! He Rog! Did you get all your work done already?" 

Roger cut him off. "No." 

Slightly taken aback by Roger's harsh tone he settled on an easier topic. Maybe Roger had a big test he wasn't told about coming up and was stressed about it? "O-oh taking a break, or?" 

"Going for a walk." 

Maurice knew not to push Roger's buttons, especially when he was stressed. "Ok, be careful." 

Roger didn't say anything else, he simply took off out the door. After making his way down the stairs of the dorm building he found the exit. He knew exactly where to go. He shivered slightly, maybe ripped jeans and a hoodie wasn't the smartest decision after all. 

After making his way into the forest he huffed. He couldn't understand how Simon had come across this spot in the first place. He pushed his way through the branches and into the sanctuary. Now that it was becoming darker it had a much different atmosphere. Roger didn't care. He could finally try to think clearly again. 

Roger sat on the log once more. His eyes scanned his surroundings, taking several more deep breaths he finally began to feel slightly calmer, his shoulders dropping. It's a start. The pressure in his head seized slightly, still announcing its presence in the back of his brain but it wasn't anywhere nearly as bad as it was. 

He sat there, twinkles of stars started taking over the galaxy. He was exhausted, but there was something nudging at him to finish his thoughts. 

Okay. 

So. He knew he liked Simon. But accepting it was hard. He didn't even ask for a friendship but he got it, and damn was he happy about that. Roger tried to recall what it was specifically about Simon that he liked so much. 

He was always supportive, even if it was staying silent and just listening to Roger vent about whatever was bothering him in the moment. 

Simon was always bright, thinking back on it, Roger was sure he'd only ever seen Simon down once or twice and he bounced back from it rather quickly. 

Not to mention how kind and just generally open Simon was. He liked that. He never bullshitted any of his thoughts. Always saying exactly what he thought in the moment.

They really couldn't be further opposites yet somehow Roger felt like there was a red string on both their fingers. Simon was the balance Roger needed. Maybe Simon needed Roger too. 

Oddly enough Roger found himself taking comfort in the thought. Yet, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he couldn't accept it. These conflicting emotions picked and pryed for him to get himself together. His heart felt heavy under all this inner conflict. It became too much again. Another attack on the small amount of security he had was coming on again. He hated it. It only got worse.

Not only was he still experiencing aftereffects of the previous one, but now symptoms of this new attack. 

He couldn't get away. 

He already tried to escape, where else was there to go? 

Tears pricked at his eyes, begging to fall. He refused. Shoving his head into his arms, the pressure got worse, taking over every crevasse in his brain. 

This time, a voice clawed itself out of the darkest depths of his brain, finally making itself present. 

_ Get your keys. _

It was nasty. Roger knew that. He knew exactly what it was commanding him to do. He didn't want to break his streak. He was clean for a year now. Making that progress was hard enough. Roger knew if he broke it, he had the chance of temptation coming back to him, all progress wiped away. The countless therapy sessions he endured, blabbering on about his traumas would've been for nothing. 

For some reason, it sounded compelling. Maybe it could be the relief he'd need in this moment. 

_ Roger reached for his keys _ .


	6. You're safe now, I promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: self harm

Keys now in hand, Roger found himself rolling up his sleeve.

Somehow, the silence seemed unbearable. Just another thing. Normally, silence was how Roger preferred noise levels to be, if not occupied by humming of songs through his headphones. This was different, it was like nails on a chalkboard. Nonetheless, he stared down at his arm. Various markings appeared much paler against his already ghostly skin, making themselves a reminder of his past. It used to be a dark way to cope, he knew it was wrong but at that time, it was what felt right. Like he  _ deserved _ it. They were slightly lifted, almost like braille. 

_ Go on. _

Pressing the metal against his skin felt like a sin in of itself. 

_ Do it. Do it. Do it. _

Picking a spot on delicate skin of his forearm he pressed the cold of the muted gold against his skin. With nothing more than a sharp inhale, the gritting of teeth and a glance upwards towards the stars he slid the metal across himself. 

_ Good. _

It stung. With his head still faced towards the night, moonlight now leaking through the rooftop he shut his eyes tightly. Repeating the motion again and again, he must’ve had four or five lacerations now. 

Finally, he turned his gaze towards his arm. Numbness took over. Almost as though his brain was protecting him from feeling what he thought he would. Red was everywhere. It was warm and sticky, trickling out from ravines of fresh wounds. He continued to just stare, almost entranced. Allowing the bloodstained keys to fall from his left to the forest floor he couldn’t help but to allow for his actions to finally settle in. 

He relapsed. He really fucked up, badly. What was he to do now? After not being able to feel what he’d done, he finally came to. It stung, itched maybe? He never thought it’d get this bad. He didn’t have anything to fix himself up with. 

This isn’t good. 

If he were to try to go back to the dorms now he’d most certainly get caught. But if he didn’t go back to fix himself, he’d bleed to unconsciousness for sure. What was the right thing to do? Wait it out? If he got caught he’d get sent to counseling again, he hated it, no way he was going back. Staring back down at his bag once more, as though it had all the answers. Pondering, his eyes narrowed, examining details of stitching on his bag to distract from the burning sting, an idea finally popped up. His phone. He’d call someone! Of course!

With his left hand, he rummaged through his bag, finally finding his phone near the bottom. Glowing blue illuminated his face, slightly blinding him for a second or two before he unlocked it. Entering his contacts a new dilemma entered his head. Who? Who’d he call?

Jack was far too unstable for this. He’d see Roger’s actions as selfish and take no sympathy, calling him names, probably questioning him how he’d found the sanctuary at all. Nope, Jack was out of the question. Maurice? No, he couldn’t, he’d ask too many questions, too much talk with him. Besides, Maurice doesn’t handle blood like this well, and his emotions would most likely get the better of him. He continued to scroll through, a few others caught his eye but none that’d be sufficient. Then, he saw Simon. No questions asked, no thought had to be put into it. Almost automatically, he pressed on his contact, then the call button.

A new dilemma. What was he supposed to say?

Before he could articulate what he wanted to say, a voice made itself present on the other end, rather sleepily at that.

“Wh- Rog.. it’s late, why are you calling?”

“Uh, can,” he paused, taking another glance at his arm, “can you uh come to the spot? In the forest?” His voice lacked it’s normal flare, instead sounding rather weak and nimble.

Shifting of blankets could be heard through the phone, “Why? It’s like, 2am already,”

“Please? And bring a first aid kit with you too,”

“Rog, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

Roger bit his lip. Someone genuinely caring for him? That’s new. “I relapsed.”

He couldn’t get any other words out before the sleepy voice changed to a state of sudden awareness, “I’ll be there. Give me like ten minutes,”

“Alright.” Roger hung up the phone, dropping it next to his keys. It hurt like Hell. While most of the bleeding had subsided, becoming oxidized, a few droplets fell onto his converse.

Simon got ready the quickest he probably ever has in his lifetime. Panicked, he quite literally jumped out of his bed, finding the nearest hoodie he could that’d protect him from the cold nipping at his skin then quickly proceeded his way to the bathroom. 

After stumbling his way into the room in question he flicked the light on and wasted no time to open the cabinets. He rummaged through them, finally finding the first aid kit in the back of the left-most corner. On his way out he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His messy hair was something he was just going to deal with, he could waste any time. Simon continued on his way, finding himself near the door to leave. He quickly slipped on a pair of shoes, managing to tie them in the dark proved more difficult than anticipated but he managed. Throwing the door open, he hurriedly rushed down the corridors of the dorms. While rushing down the staircases he jumped down the last few on each platform. Finally he was free. Picking up his speed he rushed towards the forest.

The forest proved much more difficult to navigate through when dark as Simon quickly found from tripping over the root of a tree. He picked himself back up, not bothering to wipe the dirt from his pastel blue pajama pants. Continuing on he begged for his legs to carry him faster. His friend was in danger! He might die if he doesn’t get to him quick enough! The statement he gave Simon over the phone was vague and Simon couldn’t help but to wonder what he’d meant by ‘relapsed’. What’d he do in particular? He’d noticed Roger’s tone though. He’d never heard him seem so… weak? Defeated, maybe? Whatever happened he knew it was bad and Simon could only hope that when he got there nothing had worsened. 

Simon finally came across the stream, the water seemed much too calm for the predicament Simon found himself in. He nearly slipped on a rock when crossing, but managed to stabilize his balance. Once across, he recklessly, pushed through bushes and found himself in front of the thick haste of branches. After taking a deep breath, clenching the first aid kit’s handle a little harder than before, he carried on. 

Upon his arrival, he saw Roger sitting on the fallen log staring upwards of the sky, a melancholy stare present upon his features. He then took notice of how his arm was positioned, upright. 

Roger must’ve taken notice of Simon’s presence as well. He tilted his head towards Simon, his eyes softening slightly. Simon came closer, and upon further inspection finally realized what Roger meant by ‘relapsed’. 

“Rog...I-”

“I know, I know, just… help me.. please?” Roger bit his lip, his arm began to shake slightly, and Simon noticed the circles under eyes were more prominent than normal.

Simon got to work. Unzipping the kit, he found the disinfectant, pouring a small amount onto a cotton pad. Roger watched tiredly, Simon stared back at him, only to find himself unable to say anything. 

“This uh, this might sting. So just, brace yourself okay?” 

Roger nodded. Upon the cotton meeting his arm he shut his eyes tightly. It felt cold, but also immensely stung, Simon’s touch was gentle, nothing short of what’s expected from him. He continued to wipe away all the plasma, disinfecting the multiple wounds in the process. He continued on with what Simon thought would be next, bandages. He rummaged through the kit, finally finding the roll of thick bandage. He taped it down then carefully began to wrap it around Roger’s arm. It wasn’t the sight of Roger’s condition that bothered Simon, no, it was what must’ve been going through Roger’s mind to cause this to happen. Simon knew not to ask, especially with Roger. He’d let him open up to him when he was ready, there wasn’t any good in trying to press the question.

Simon cut the bandage and taped the opposite side down just like the side he did previously. Roger stared down at his arm once more, he shoulders dropping in the process. Simon remained seated on the log beside him, zipping up the kit and putting it aside. Radio silence came from either end. It was the first time there had ever been an awkward silence between them. Would this change their relationship forever? Would they be able to look each other in the eyes? 

Simon broke the silence, still staring down at the ground.

“Hey I, uh, ju-”

He was cut off by a tight one-armed embrace, a looser arm followed suit. When Simon looked to assess the situation he only knew Roger had essentially flung himself around Simon, his head tucked into Simon’s chest. He’d decided it must’ve been slightly uncomfortable so he adjusted himself so Roger could be comfortable. Bringing his arms around Roger as well, rubbing soft and gentle circles into his back, as if to let him know he was safe. Simon then brought his chin to lay atop Roger’s head, resting it softly. 

Every now and again he’d feel Roger take a shaky breath that would move his shoulders and a muffled sniffle could be heard. 

Simon delicately took Roger’s shoulders to lift him up, Roger untangled his arms from Simon, holding his head low. Simon hesitated for a moment, yet continued, he cupped Roger’s face, making him look at him. Roger was met with soft eyes and an even gentler smile. Simon wiped away any remaining tears from his exhausted eyes. Simon removed his hands from his face after wiping away the droplets and instead gestured for them to go back to their previous position. 

Simon whispered sweet nothings to Roger until his waterfalls subsided and he was almost falling asleep. It was at least 2 am at this point and the milky stars begged for them to get some rest. Simon halted his rubbing of melodic circles and tapped Roger on the shoulder only to receive a drained mumble as a response. 

“We should maybe head back to the dorms, yeah? I can only imagine how exhausted you must be,” Simon carefully whispered as to not break their peace.

Another small mumble came from Roger as he slowly unhooked his arms from Simon. 

  
  


On their way out of the forest, Simon took Roger’s backpack to his back and the first aid kit in one hand. He guided Roger out and towards their respective places of rest. Eventually they made it back. Simon wouldn’t let Roger walk free that easily though. 

“I can walk back to my dorm just fine, no need to worry,”

“No way. I’m coming with you.” Simon pressed.

Roger accepted, what else was there to do? He knew Simon wouldn’t give up that easily. So, they continued on. Upon meeting Roger’s dorm building, Simon held the door open for him, insisting that he go ahead. Simon followed Roger to his dorm and after meeting a stop to said dorm he lightly took Roger’s uninjured arm as to take his attention.

“If you need  _ anything _ , anything at all, you give me a call, okay?”

Roger met Simon’s gaze with a nod and a simple yet appreciative ‘okay’. 

After waiting for Roger to go safely into the room, Simon finally made his way back to his own dorm building.

Simon could only hope he’d be alright.


	7. Bouquets and Confessions

Sunlight rays shone through pale green curtains and into Simon’s eyes, begging for him to start his day. Groggily, he opened his eyes, squinting to protect himself from the harsh golden ambiance. After struggling to convince himself out of the comfort of his warm cocoon of blankets, he finally found himself stood in his shared kitchen. He passed by Ralph who was sitting at the kitchen table, his binder open next to his laptop, which he was furiously typing away on. Simon gave him a questioning look as he pulled open the fridge door to prepare his breakfast. 

“I forgot about this essay I have due, and it’s due in,” Ralph glanced down to his laptop’s clock before continuing, “14 hours,” 

“Oh, that’s rough, you should get a planner Ralph, it might help you,” Simon responded as he waited for his bread to pop up as toast. 

The rest of their breakfast went by silently, with small chat in between their typing or scrolling through their phones. Piggy eventually joined them in the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around the medicine major’s shoulders. Eventually, he sat down at the table, a glass of orange juice in front of him. Piggy then continued to push his glasses from his face, allowing him to rub his eyes of any remnants of drowsiness. 

Concerned, Ralph turned to his friend, “You okay Piggy? I haven’t seen you this tired in some time,” 

“Hm? Oh,” he let out a small yawn, his hand covering his mouth, “I have a big test this week and I was up until around 3,”

Ralph offered his reassurance that Piggy would do fine, just as he always does, then went on to explain his current situation. Simon however, upon hearing the words “around 3” sent him spiraling. Though it wasn’t clear from his expression or body language, the thoughts were still present. Had Piggy heard him last night? Certainly he had to have heard the door close and open last night. 

That wasn’t important right now. Simon got up and put his dishes in the sink to wash later. Wishing his friends good luck on their responsibilities he made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up for his shift. 

Upon closing the door and looking himself in the mirror had he only now realised how disheveled he looked. His hair was much more mangled than he thought it was, both from turning in the little sleep he had achieved that night and from running in the woods. His pastel blue pajama bottoms were stained with dirt at the knees, presumably from his small tumble. Finally his hoodie which he hadn’t bothered to remove once he got back home had a small dribble of blood staining his right side. That’s when it hit him. Roger. How was he? He hadn’t received any calls or texts for the rest of the night. He must be feeling a little better, right? Simon made a silent note to text Roger after he’d gotten ready. 

The jarring sounds of an alarm were set off. A wandering hand continued to pat the bed, in hopes of finding the source of the sound. After finally locating the phone and turning the alarm off, the boy weakly sat up in his bed from his slumber. A faint pain on his right arm made sure to make itself be known. Looking down to see bandages wrapped around his arm. Oh yeah. Sighing, he carefully reached to the foot of his bed, grabbing his black hoodie and throwing it over his torso. Groggily, he managed to swing his legs to the edge of the bed, giving enough of a push with his good arm to allow him to stand up. 

Exiting his room, he headed straight for the bathroom. Once safely inside, he locked the door and unwrapped the bandage, throwing it into the trash. Looking down, he spotted the lacerations wrapping themselves around his arm. Grabbing everything he’d need to properly care for them, he went back to thinking. He was thankful Simon was there. He didn’t want to think about what the results would’ve been had he not been there. Yet there was a twinge of a foreign emotion that he couldn’t quite pinpoint the name of. He desperately wanted to thank Simon for his support and reassurance, yet the thought of having to talk to him the day directly after everything seemed unbearable. What if Simon thought of him as a burden? Weak, maybe? Possibly even a poser of sorts? No, Simon isn’t like that. He kept that thought running through his mind instead. Every positive memory he’d had with the smaller boy filled his mind and momentarily, he wanted to keep it that way.

Simon sat on his bed, his t-shirt was arranged with several flowers decorating the pastel yellow shirt which was tucked into a pair of high-waisted jeans. His phone in hand, he went to Roger’s contact to text him. Tapping the bubble to open the keyboard g.u.i, his fingers hovered over the letters. Just don’t say anything that’ll set him off. It’d be easy right? 

After many failed attempts which Simon deemed too pushy, rude or otherwise inconsiderate, he scrapped the idea of texting Roger completely. He felt bad, he knew he should check up on his friend, especially after last night’s events, but the thought of saying something that would make Roger upset only made him anxious. Maybe he could… Yes of course!!

He’d make a bouquet and drop it off at Roger’s dorm after his shift finished. Maybe the theme could be healing and wellness? His shift was only four hours today so it hopefully wouldn’t be too late to drop it off. 

Upon clocking in, Simon prepared himself for his usual routine. The girl who’d just finished her opening shift had just left and left Simon responsible as the only one currently working in the shop. He smiled as the most dreadful task, dethorning roses, had been taken care of for him. Simon made his way around the shop trying to decide what his first plan of action would be for the day. He decided on topping up or in some cases, giving completely new water to some of the flowers. 

Pushing the cart down aisles the ebony haired boy groaned, “Why did I exactly have to come along again?” 

The redhead didn’t turn around to answer, simply continuing on his way, occasionally picking something off one of the shelves, tossing it into the cart, his friend close in tow. 

Roger glared down into the cart, scanning through the items, “Do you even know how to make anything from these?”

“Nah, I’m using recipes for all of these,” Jack absentmindedly commented, waving his hand lazily, still strolling down aisles.

“Whatever, as long as Maurice isn’t cooking,”

A small stifle of a laugh from Jack made itself present, “Why? What’d he do?”

“The last time he tried to make pasta he set fire to it because he didn’t know you needed to put water in the pot,” he finished before letting out a small laugh of his own.

Jack fully stopped, turning around to face Roger, absolutely dumbfounded before full out laughing about the situation. 

“You’re serious?” 

“You really think I’d be able to come up with something like that?”

They continued, side by side now, Roger still taking control of the cart with Jack continuing to throw various items into the cart. It remained mostly silent between them, every now and again Jack would ask if they had whatever he was about to pick up at home, earning only a nod or a shrug from Roger. 

His mind was occupied with irrational thoughts. Although he made very conscious decisions on what he’d wear and if it’d be enough to cover up any suspicions of bandages he couldn’t help but feel like thousands of eyes were on him and they all knew what he’d done. Occasionally thoughts of what Simon’d think would come to him but he quickly learned to push those away.

A sudden stinging came and went on his shoulder as he came to his senses once more. 

“Oi, you still in there?” It was just Jack. 

“Yeah, just.. thinkin’ , just thinkin’” 

“Ok, well anyways, as I was saying, where were you last night? Maurice said you left but you never came back.”

It never ends, does it? Roger couldn’t seem to catch a single break. His mind raced for anything, anything at all that Jack might believe to be true.

“Uh, I uh, got stressed, so I just went for a walk, met up with a friend,” 

It wasn’t entirely a lie, he did technically go for a walk and he did meet up with Simon.

“Ah, is that one you keep going out with?” he paused, “Simon? Was it?”

Seriously? 

Slightly flustered upon hearing the name, all Roger could stammer out was a simple ‘yeah’.

“Ya know, you’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,”

Roger pushed the cart with a little more anticipation than he had previously, hoping for the subject to drop itself. Though, as most things seem to like to mess with Roger, Jack was just the same, insistent on continuing the conversation.

_ “You like him don’t you?” _

The boy continued on his way after crossing the street, much more cautious than he had previously been when crossing that one time that Roger had walked with him to his work. The bouquet he picked was rather pretty, shades of pinks and oranges along with its fair share of yellows and purples. He carefully held it as he walked, as to not damage any petals.

Upon arriving at the dorm building that he believed to be Roger’s if he remembered properly from last night, he swiped his student access card, allowing him entrance to the building. Now, as for which actual dorm was the right one would be a different question. Simon recalled the events from last night, it was to the left and then straight forward, right? Only one way to find out. Shrugging his shoulders, he made his way to his destination. 

Maurice, who’d been for once, actually catching up with work that he’d previously procrastinated on heard a knock on the door. It couldn’t have been Jack and Roger, they’d just let themselves in. Curiosity got the better of him and he set his laptop down on the couch, getting up to answer the door. 

Simon let out a sigh, maybe this wasn’t the one? That thought was interrupted by the clicking of a door opening. 

“Uh, hey, is there something I can help you with?” 

This was one of Roger’s friends! Right! Simon remembered him from seeing him with Roger in the cafeteria that one time. 

“Yeah actually, um, I’m Simon by the way,” a smile grazed his features as the recognition set in. 

“Maurice, what’s up?” 

So that’s his name.

“Is Roger here by chance?” 

“Not right now he’s out with Jack running errands”

Simon frowned a little yet he refused for it to deter him, he’s come this far after all. 

“Oh, well uh, these are for him,” Simon held his hands out, the bouquet still looking as bright as it did when he picked the flowers out. 

Confused, Maurice took them into his own hands, staring down at the arrangement. 

“How’s he doing by the way? Is he alright?” 

Maurice scratched the back of his neck, glancing up the side, “Yeah, he’s not doing too great, he left last night without saying much, and it was a bitch to convince him to go out,”

Simon nodded yet his smile faltered at the mention of last night. It was certainly something he wouldn’t forget, as much as he’d like to, the amount of blood he lost would’ve easily been detrimental. 

Maurice continued, “Being honest though, it isn’t much of a surprise. I mean-” he cut himself off. “Can you keep a secret?” 

Simon nodded.

“Okay, I’ll let you in on something but if it gets out you’re probably dead.” Maurice leaned up against the door frame, the bouquet still taking its place in his arms.

Simon, stood still. What could be so important that he’d be dead if told someone? Was Roger not who he thought he was? 

“Alright so Rog, he uh, he didn’t have the best childhood. I mean, Jack and I were always there but his parents were kinda, I don’t really know how to put it lightly, shitty?” 

It suddenly clicked as to why this should be kept a secret.

“Yeah, he kinda spent a lot of nights at either Jack or I’s houses, to sleepover or whatever. His dad wasn’t really all that present, and his mom was drunk a lot of the time.”

The raven haired boy couldn’t help but feel terrible, all he’d ever known was love from his family and friends. 

“He got into a lot of fights when we were still in highschool too, he’s mellowed out a little since then cause he’s gotten a lot of therapy for that stuff but yeah, he’s still really closed off and I don’t think he wants to admit it’s because he still holds a lot of resentment towards his parents and he’s just projecting it onto himself.”

Simon didn’t know what to say, he was, for the first time, at a loss for words. He’d never thought that Roger might’ve been this hurt. He’d seen Roger more closed off and reserved, sure, but he’d also seen a side of Roger that was much softer and open. 

“I had no clue. I always thought he was just..”

“The reserved kid in the back of the class? Yeah, that’s the persona he likes to put out, I’m just happy he’s found a friend besides us. Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, he just,” Maurice paused, looking for the right words, “never really branched out, I guess?”

The car ride home was silent, Jack who was driving, glanced over to Roger every now and then, but never said anything. Roger, kept his head propped up on his hand, his arm resting on the window. He kept his gaze outside.

Had he really made it that obvious? Roger was certain that he kept it much more low-key. Was Jack just messing with him and he fell for it or did he really know something more? 

Roger broke their silence in a low yet audible tone, “How’d you know?” 

Jack kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, “Just figured ya know? You’re constantly with him and you never really stop talking about what you guys do.”

Roger rubbed his face, “I thought, I didn’t make it nearly as obvious, you better not tell anyone.”, his words came through muffled.

“I won’t, you are rather predictable though.”

“Oh whatever.”

Simon arrived back to his dorm safely, after greeting both Ralph and Piggy he made his way to his room, gently closing the door behind him. After setting his bag down and kicking off his shoes, he flopped onto his fortress of blankets and pillows.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh sorry for not updating for a month!! I've just been feeling really out of it lately but I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter regardless ;-; 
> 
> Also, I'd just to say thank you for all of the support you've all been giving the fic, it's really lovely to read all your comments and they always make my day. <3
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy during the quarantine by the way! <3


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